A Silent Death...

Today was one of those days… those days when one does not feel like doing anything and sits around idly… thinking about the mountain of tasks left to be done but not taking the effort to move a limb and do them! I was idly skimming through a 3 days old paper when an article caught my attention. It was called Rangoli Days. Interesting, I thought and I read on.

The writer of this article describes how she heard the Rangoli seller shouting out her wares on the street one day and how it brought back fond memories of two decades ago when Rangolis were ubiquitous. In her own words, she says, “those were the times when the lady of the house would wash the front yard, pick up her bowl of Rangoli powder, bend double and with deft fingers, dab dots and dashes into an interesting motif. Then the bowl would be tucked away into a corner, usually on a window sill, and she would vanish indoors to complete her other chores. The Rangoli was a sign of welcome, and indication that the house was ready for a brand new day.” She goes on to describe how she and her friends would skip around the designs carefully on their way to school and back and how, on festival days, the Rangolis were a lot bigger and more colorful with the sprinkling of petals and flowers for the festive effect.

This article pulled a few chords in my own heart and I reminisced about the time when I was about five. There are some events in one’s life which, however insignificant they are, one never forgets. They stick in our minds. Memories of everyday, insignificant events. Insignificant memories, but priceless, when one feels nostalgic and reflects on the past to remember the good old days. My Rangoli memories were some of them. I was always amazed by how my Grandma would draw huge, beautiful patterns outside the threshold every morning. Perfect to the minutest detail with not a line, nay, not even a dot out of place. Regal peacocks, burning diyas, flowers, beautiful ladies holding lamps… each pattern had its own story to tell. She would allow me to dot the plot once in a while, gently correcting my grip and teaching me the right way to hold the powder in my fingers to get thin and straight lines. I still remember my first pattern - one with lamps and a flower in the middle. The lines were awry and the dots were out of place but my grandma applauded me and gave me one of her special laddoos as a reward. And gazing at my creation, I experienced a joy I’d never experienced before. I’m sure Rembrandt or Picasso wouldn’t have been happier after their first painting!

Then there was the time when the neighbor aunty got a permanent Rangoli pattern painted on her threshold. When my grandma saw this she marched to her house and demanded:

“Why Savithri? Why did you get a Rangoli painted??! Your Rangolis were always so good!”

Savithri aunty said “I know Kamala, but I’m not getting any younger you see. It’s getting really difficult for me to get up so early in the morning every day. And my daughter in law does not have time in the mornings for a Rangoli.

“Well, that’s really sad! But that’s not going to happen in my place! I’ll never get a pattern painted outside my threshold however old and blind I become!” retorted my grandma.

To this day, the first thing that welcomes me when I go back home from college is the beautiful pattern on our threshold complete with fragrant incense sticks sticking out of the mud in the tulsi pot. I always smile at this and look around. I see either bare thresholds or painted patterns at the neighbors’ doors. Or even a car and a two wheeler parked in the place which rightfully belongs to the Rangoli!

It’s really sad actually. Globalisation and modernization are doing a lot of good things – double incomes, lots of other facilities… but they are also eating into our lives. Into the time which was usually reserved for things which truly matter. Things like eating dinner together as a family, or taking a walk together or decorating the our homes on festive occasions. Why, even celebrating festivals has become perfunctory now…

And simple traditions like drawing a Rangoli… well, they just seem to be dying a silent death…

COORG!!!

It was just after the mid sems! In fact, on the very night of the last exam, that six enthusiastic gals (Shish, Sab, Ro, Sonal, Prarth and yours truly) set off to the beautiful place with cloud-capped mountains, gushing streams, beautiful scenes and coffee estates that is Coorg!

After much planning and speculation and of course the stabs (is anyone feeling guilty out there?!), we decided on this beautiful destination. Well, we considering Ooty (which was ditched due to financial constraintsL ) and Wayanad (which is considered a little unsafe) too but finally, Coorg it was! Sab, Shish and Prarth did most of the planning, contacting the hotels for acco et al (since the rest of us had to “study” for our last exam- Marketing Management).

The happiness was evident on our faces when we boarded the bus to Mangalore, with each of us quivering with excitement! We got off at the main bus stand and boarded a bus to Madikeri. We were off at last! Well, for the remaining part of the journey, I slept blissfully, thanks to my wonderful ability to be able to sleep anywhere regardless of the noise and the confusion! But of what I heard, Sab and Sonal had a wonderful time gossiping throughout! The next thing I remember is Ro waking me up at 2 saying “Madikeri is here”. We hopped off the bus and instantly froze! Boy, was it cold! Thanks to a kind soul who was awake at that hour, we managed to get to the hotel and into our rooms. I don’t remember anything after that except taking a pic and posing for one! The first two in a long stream of pics!

The next morning, we woke up at 6:30 (when we were supposed to be up by 5!) and after a hurried hour of getting ready and gulping down hot idlis for breakfast, we were off by 7:30 to Thadiyandamol! For all the folks out there who dunno what this strange word means, it happens to be the highest peak in Coorg District! We got onto a bus at Madikeri main stand to Kaikamba, the town closest to Thadiyandamol. I made some good friends on the bus journey having seated next to an old man (who told me all about Thadiyandamol, Bhagamandala and Talacauvery) and later, a Coorgi lady (who told me quite a bit about Coorgi customs and even invited me to a wedding later that day!!). After an hour’s journey on a surprising good road, we got off at Kaikamba. The bus conductor had promised us that the actual trek to Thadiyandamol was just ½ a km away, but we ended up walking 5 km on a steep uphill road! Our foolishness not to take a jeep actually!

My fellow trekkers!

The trek though not difficult at all, is extremely scenic. We were still not even halfway up, when the views were breathtaking! Surrounded on all sides by mountains, we could see sparkling streams that looked like glistening silver threads from the distance, lush green fields in the valley below, the little houses and the ubiquitous coffee estates! It’s beautiful how God plays with colors! On one side, u have the sky sporting different shades of blue in different parts, the mountains in every imaginable shade of brown and gray covered by the rich green forests, whose trees are capped with a pink cover of tender new leaves, the fresh green of the lush paddy fields, the white, gray and black of the clouds, the myriad of flowers each of a different hue, red and purple, yellow and blue, the golden sunlight which makes everything sparkle with glee and above all the wonderful fresh raindrops on the leaves which cast rainbows everywhere after their game with the light! No poet, no artist, no photographer can capture the essence of the beauty of Nature in all her glory! She changes colors and shades faster than it takes to blink and smiles mischievously when u try to create a copy of her beauty on paper or canvas! Well, I just can’t go on! It ought to be experienced- the beauty and the magnitude of that moment can only be captured by the eye and perceived by the mind, nothing else! I was spellbound as Nature mesmerized me with her beauty and tried in vain to capture a few snapshots of that beauty with my camera but I honestly failed miserably. Nothing and nobody can do full justice to Nature and her charm.

A view from Halfway up en route to the Thadiyandamol peak.

This pic is one of my personal favorites!

There wasn’t much to do after that with heavy rains pounding down on us and we slipped with every step we took, so we decided to head back and go elsewhere. We managed to get hold of a jeep to take us back to Kakkabbe after a visit to a nearby coffee estate which had its own waterfall! We got back to Madikeri and after a much delayed lunch (at 4:30) we headed to the Madikeri museum (which frankly does not have much!) and then to Raja Seat, another place with a breathtaking view! If Thadiyandamol has treats for the eye, bathed in sunlight, this holds feasts for the eye by the twilight. After a round of chaats and the musical fountain, we trekked back to the room to rest our “tired” limbs.Shrouded in mist... near Raja Seat.

A pic on the fort near the museum.

The next day, we set off to Dubare Elephant camp (located near Kushalnagar). We had the cross the river Cauvery in a boat to reach the elephants. Sadly we could not go river rafting here coz it cost an outrageous 600 bucks per person! At the camp, we made friends with Parashurama (aged 3), Ranjan (aged 8) and Maithili (aged 52), all of them the trunked inhabitants of the camp. Sadly again for us, we could not go for an elephant ride as most of the elephants had gone to the Dasara procession at Mysore.

Parashurama at Dubare

From Dubare we went to Nisargadhama after an amusing auto journey with 6 of us (7 including the driver) in one auto and me sitting on the window bar! Nisargadhama happens to be a quiet place with tree houses, bamboos, rabbits, deer and monkeys. A huge garden where one can spend many hours in solitude, reading a book, penning down thoughts, pondering… I felt at peace there. Nature was placid and calm. Time seemed to stand still. The bamboos seemed to create music with percussions in the breeze with the chirping rendering beautiful melodies in the soft green light.

Nisargadhama

After a good lunch at Kushalnagar, we moved to the famous Buddhist monastery and what a treat it turned out to be. The meditation hall was an architectural marvel with beautiful and huge statues, marvelous pillars, rich paintings and the quiet solitude and calm that can only be experienced. I clicked more than I blinked there. Monks dressed in maroon walked everywhere, chanting with prayer beads, talking on the phone, moving in line… Little monks running around and playing… devout ladies bowing their heads before the deity…

The prayer hall at the Buddhist monastery.

After a bit of shopping at the Tibetian shops in the complex, we headed back to Kushalnagar and then to Madikeri at around 5 in the evening. We visited the Omkareshwara temple in evening and then headed back to the room. After a series of card games, “Badam Saath” being the most popular, we trooped to East End Hotel and tasted good food for the first time in many days! Then back to the room, packing, checking out, going to the bus stand at midnight and boarding a bus going to Kundapur, getting off in front of the guest house early next morning…

We cheered! We had finally made it back, safe and sound after having a wonderful time at the Scotland of India, Coorg! Two days filled with fun and rich experiences. Hope there are many more such memorable trips to come!

Highlights of the trip:

1) Sab’s birthday on the day we went to Dubare and the “green eyed” cakes we got for her! Hope u had a wonderful day!

2) Prarth’s birthday on the day we were travelling back and our “Happy Birthday” song for her sung on NH 17 after we got off the bus. Hey kiddo, welcome to the world! J

3) Sonal’s explanation of “intern monks” when we were all wondering aloud as to why some of the monks were staying outside the Vihara.

4) Sonal: “Hey!”; Little monk: “No!” (Ask her for more details! I’m still rofling coz of this!)

5) The sleepyard pics in the bus(es).

This post is dedicated:

1) To Mother Nature, the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen.

2) To Divya and Pragathi who unfortunately could not make it. U guys were terribly missed!

3) To Varun and Shashank for giving us very useful details on the hotel, trek and gen stuff.

4) To my wonderful camera which helped us capture the wonderful memories of this trip and record them in places other than our hearts and minds.

5) To the 9 leeches which managed to draw blood from some of us ( Sab – 7, Shish and Prarth – 1 each. Sonal, Ro and I were very fortunate indeed to escape their bites).

6) To all those who managed to read this post and reach this point.

7) To Prarth, Shish, Sab, Ro and Sonal – my fellow trippers. It was truly great fun guys!

8) To William Wordsworth, my idol, for giving the world some of the most beautiful descriptions of Mother Nature and one of the very few who’s gotten closest in doing justice to her beauty through his works.

An Ode to Lavender

There she sits, pretty and purple on my over-cluttered table. Lifeless now, but still not displaced from her position. She's no nightingale, but i still love her voice! She's managed to hold her fort, secure her place on my table, no mean achievement i can assure u.

I still remember the day she was bought, a few days after we moved into our own home in Bangalore and my school van came to pick my sis and me at an outrageously early time.. 6:30 a.m that is! and that's really early even for an over enthu school kid like me who loved school, assignments, tests and the before-school-began lagori and basketball games. I assure u, I've changed a LOT now! I missed my van a couple of days, having woken up only when the driver sounded his horn and resulting in my disgruntled dad having to drop us off to school! Then, she arrived.. to make lives simpler for us... a beauty in purple and white! Her hands so slender and the numbers so beautifully carved. She was surely a thing of beauty! It was love at first sight for me!

Traditional households usually wake up to the strains of the Suprabhatha, but not us, no! We woke up to her melodious notes! Well, they weren't exactly melodious, but we got to school by van without our dad having to drop us off, while looking at his wristwatch a thousand times and cursing all and sundry, Bangalore's traffic included! We were all happy and life in school went on!

Come college, and like every other "above average" student in our country, i was enrolled into IIT-JEE coaching classes from 6 to 9 in the morning! EVERYDAY!! This meant that i had to be up by 4:30 a.m to catch the 5:15 bus! Impossible i thought, but not for long! Lavender (that's what i called her then), kept me company and saw me through those tumultuous years of 11th and 12th.

JEE turned out to be a fiasco like no other, but AIEEE somehow clicked, and here i landed. In NITK. Lavender came along of course, but i stopped calling her that cos i felt it sounded stupid. But i continued to rely on her and she never let me down even once. She saw me through all the first hour classes @ 7:55! I never missed a single first hour class cos i never woke up late ( all my friends will vouch for that) ! And when i decided to get up at 4:45 for yoga, she made sure i did.

Come second and third year, and i became a fitness freak . Well, it didn't exactly yield the desired results, but hey, atleast i made an attempt! She woke me up at sharp 6 every morning and i would go jogging... with the wind in my hair, coming back sweating like a mad pig but exhilarated! Engineering exams involve a lot of last minute work... in fact, almost all of it is last minute work! But she was there to make sure i had those last minutes on the mornings of the exams to read up on hitherto unread photocopied material! She made sure i attended all the classes inspite of an "almost" nightout where i would run to bed at 4 in the morning after a looooooooong movie session or project report writing or submissions! She never once let me down!

And then final year came... she saw me through the frenetic placement season when i tried to unravel Kernighan and Ritchie's gift the the world - the eternal "C" and i managed to pull it off! And now, here i was, with a job in hand and in final year where attending classes had almost become a thing of the past. Her snooze button which had hardly been used before became the button i used the most, apart from the keypad buttons on my phone, and thus she drained out. Died a slow and quiet death while her battery ran out. I made no effort to replace it as i needed her no more. The least i could do to honor the services she had rendered to me was to keep her on my table.

And here she is... on my table. She looks so demure in death too, so beautiful and so perfect... purple and pretty, my sweet little clock Lavender.

The MAGIC of being JKR!!!

Well, 21st July 2007, the day of another Harry Potter book release!! and the world's gone crazy!!!! what else can one expect?! anyone who's read any of harry's adventures and calls himself an ardent fan would know what a harry potter book release means!! It's magic! an escape to an exciting new world where exhilaration knows no bounds as harry embarks on a new adventure to vanquish or weaken the Dark Lord!

I must admit, JKR had me on the edge of my seat this time! the last and final adventure is a thrilling page-turner where i hung onto every word!! it didn't matter to me that the version i had was a photographed one, blurred in many places and one had to zoom in to even get a faint idea as to what a word was! it just didn't matter!! the book moved so fast that i had no clue where i actually was! as far as i was concerned, i was with harry wherever he went! wow!! it must be so wonderful to be JKR! so wonderful to be able to spin a plot so thrilling, so magnificent, so intricate, so complex... i'm just out of adjectives!! she's a total genius! no one can deny that! to have the world waiting with bated breath for your creation... aaah! that thrill must be so out-of-the-world! once again, she's done it! spun a magical web of wonder, excitement, action, revenge, love...

Hats off to the greatest sorceress of all time, JKR!!!!

A Walk To Remember.

(People who know me well and are aware of my obsession with the movie having the same title, please don't stop reading! this is not a review ... In fact, it has no connection whatsoever with the movie!)

I look up and down the beach. The sand seems to stretch on both sides till as far as I can see. Near the entrance to the beach, a band is performing with a dj rocking the huge crowd collected there with foot-tapping hindi and bhangra numbers. A little away, football and volleyball matches are going on with a crowd of spectators cheering the players to "go for it!" I turn away from the crowd and look at the sea. The brilliant orange glare from the setting sun hits my eyes and i close them shut, only to open it immediately. "What the heck!" I mutter to myself and stare at the ball of fire. I want to look at the sun "in the eye". I close my eyes after sometime and stare for a while at the burning coals formed in the dark coolness of my eyelids. I look back at the dancing and playing crowd and contemplate. Everyone seems to be having a good time. I wonder whether I should go and join them and dance to the tune of "khalbali eh khalbali". I decide against it. I just dont feel like going there.I start walking up the beach. The sand stretches out ahead of me and I keep walking. Taking a step a second... strolling more so. Something near my foot gleams in the sun. I bend down and pick up a broken seashell. I admire the pretty pattern on the fragile piece of calcium in my hand and look down again. Another shell is lying near this one. An unbroken piece of a different color. With a different pattern on it. I pick it up too. And the next. And the next. For almost three years, I have been visiting this beach almost every week, and I have never observed the shells strewn everyone. Soon my hands are filled with shells of all sizes, shapes, textures and colors. Big ones, little ones, pure white, off-white, brown, orange, bluish... I flop down on the sand and put the heap of shells down. I pick up a particularly beautiful one. White blending into green blending into blue and then a brilliant peacock blue. I just stare at the intricate pattern and brilliant colors and sigh. With admiration. What beauty. I put my new found treasures into my pocket, stand up and start walking again, my mind still full of admiration for the delicate beauty in my pocket. Whatever man may achieve, he'll never be able to recreate Nature, her beauty, her splendor, her sophistication. I keep walking. My mind goes blank for sometime, void of all thought. Then suddenly, there is a rush of thoughts, all kinds of thoughts. Funny isn't it?! For a moment, I just cant think of anything and the next moment, torrents of thoughts are just flooding my mind. I guess it is just that man is so used to being with people all around him all the time, that when he is alone, even for a few seconds, he doesn't know what to do for a moment. I just push aside all these thoughts and look ahead. I want to be there in this moment, not think about something which has already taken place or is going to happen soon. I stare at a set of footprints going all the way up the beach. I remember H.W Longfellow's immortal words:

"Lives of great men remind us,
That we can make our lives sublime;
And departing, leave behind us,
Footprints in the sands of time.

"I smile to myself as I look at the track the foot prints have made. I start walking along it. I reach a point where the waves have almost washed out the footprints. Faint imprints are all i can see on the glassy, wet sand. "Footprints in the sands of time eh?" I smile again. Our existence is so ephemeral. The "ephemera" or the fire-fly may get a few hours to live and we, a few decades, but in the grand order of things, both amount to just a moment. Just a moment. We are so insignificant, so unimportant. Standing on the cool wet surface, I stare at the sea. White capped green waves come rushing towards me. And they recede, merging into the next one which is rushing towards the shore and mitigating its ferocity. I stare at the sky. The sun is all set to take the final dip into the molten gold sea. The blue sky is streaked with orange, yellow, red, pink and gold. The usually white clouds are puffs of orange scattered in the sky. The liquid gold near the horizon bobs up and down, as if enticing the sun to take the plunge earlier than he intends to. And the sun goes deeper and deeper into the water till he finally is no longer visible. The sky starts darkening. Black starts percolating into all the brilliant hues darkening them with each passing second. Another day is over. And so much beauty surrounds the death of another day. I turn and start walking back. I stare at my footprints and wonder. How long will they remain there. Maybe till the next huge wave comes along and almost wipes them out. Then, a couple more of huge ones and they will all be washed out. I trek back to the point where I started. The bhangra music gets louder. Now the entire area has been lit up and I can see people dancing in the distance. I see my friend waving from the distance and beckoning to me. I wave back and sigh. I have no choice but to get back there. I turn back and give the darkened sand and sea one last glance and start traipsing back towards all the din. My quiet speculative time is over. Well, i guess there's nothing so remarkable about this particular walk, but it is still so remerkable. Nothing spectacular or anything, but still so spectacular. Nothing great, but still something so wonderful."Where were u all this while?" my friend asks as soon as I am within talking distance. "We've been having so much fun here, dancing! you missed all of it!""I was just walking along the beach" I say."That u could've on done any other day na? There will be no music here tomorrow. Too bad u missed it... It's almost over!" my friend says."No da... i haven't missed anything!" I smile and turn away. My friend is wrong. I haven't missed anything. Not even the music and the dancing. The thundering waves rushing to kiss the shore is beautiful music to my ears. As for dance, can there be anything as graceful as the eagles swirling and riding on the wind or anything more attractive and enticing than the ripples bobbing up and down dancing to the tune of celestial music which falls on our ears too, but that which we choose to ignore?! I've just had the time of my life there, I've had a walk to remember!